


Keeping it Casual

by perhapsagirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Dubious Consent, F/M, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsagirl/pseuds/perhapsagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen is Arthur's 18th birthday present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping it Casual

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, there are power differentials here that probably warrants a dub-con (at least) warning. Secondly, this was a [pendragons-kink](http://pendragons-kink.livejournal.com/) fill from long, long ago.

"You're staring," Merlin whispers in a sing-song voice, refilling the young prince's cup.

"I am not!" huffs Arthur as he drags his eyes away from the young servant girl collecting the empty plates across the room. She's Morgana's handmaiden and ever since a brief conversation with her about Morgana's nightmares some weeks ago, he finds himself fascinated by her. It's not just her looks, although he admits she is very pretty, especially since she started wearing dresses that cling to her curves. It's her whole aura - the gentle innocence, the warm caring and the hidden fire. He's been observing her for weeks and he feels like he knows her. Her life is like clockwork. She arrives at the castle by 5am and she leaves at 9pm unless Morgana is sleeping badly. It doesn't help that Morgana likes to talk about her, regaling him with tales of her stoicism (did you know she never knew her mother?), her bravery (and without thinking of herself, she jumps in and defends young Jacob from Sir Tristan's bullying ways!) and her selflessness (just last night, she spent the whole night in a chair beside me because I couldn't sleep.). She was the person he wanted to be.

One of the nobles from the neighbouring lands is engaging her in conversation and Arthur watches as she bites her lips in confusion before breaking into a brilliant smile. It is at that moment he decides he wants her to smile like that at him. She turns from the noble, a smile still playing on her lips, a light flush staining her cheeks and suddenly, she catches his eyes. She bows, his breath hitches and he turns away, wiping his damp palms on his thighs and shifting in his seat discreetly. For some reason, his pants have become uncomfortable. He looks up and sees Merlin smirking at him. He scowls in return.

The feast finally winds down and one by one, the guests retire to their bedrooms. Arthur lingers in the empty dining hall. He's turned 18, an adult now as his father constantly reminds him. In another 3 years he would be crown prince. Idly tracing patterns on the table he waits. His father had told him that there would be a special gift for him at the end of the night. Perhaps, he muses, it might be a new sword. His current one was more than adequate but he is of the mind that someone of his stature and skill is deserving of something more unique - a sword with a jewelled hilt maybe. He is so caught up in his thoughts he does not notice when a slight figure slips into the dining hall, locking the door behind her.

"My lord," she whispers, dropping into a curtsey.

He snaps out of his reverie and thinks he has stepped into a dream. In front of him, blushing prettily is Morgana's handmaiden.

"Guinevere," his throat is dry and he is barely able to get her name out, "how can I help you?"

Her lips curl and she steps closer to his chair, so close he can feel the heat from her body. He thinks he ought to move but he finds his legs no longer seem to work.

"I think, sire," she looks at him through her lashes, "the question is how can I help you?" She is almost in his lap. If he moves his arm, he would be able to touch her and it's so tempting. So very tempting. Her skin gleams in the moonlight, taunting him, teasing him. He almost reaches out to her but yanks his arm away quickly.

"Umm …" She is still looking at him, her thighs now brushing against his knees. His brain has given up trying to understand the situation and it is all he can do to stop his gaze from dropping to her cleavage. His heart is pounding against his ribcage so loudly he is sure she can hear it. He throat tightens and he's not sure he remembers how to breathe anymore. The air in the room is heavy and silent and all he can hear is the thunder rushing in his ears and her soft breaths. He needs to get away from her before he makes a fool of himself. Gripping the arms of his chair, he makes to get up.

Except she is unlacing her bodice.

"Sword!" he blurts.

"What?" her hands still and she looks at him in confusion.

"My sword! I erm … I need to get it …" He lifts himself off the chair.

"We don't need your sword my lord. At least not the metal one."

Oh god, he thinks desperately as she leans in to whisper in his ear. His eyes dart down and he watches in absolute fascination the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He has no idea what is happening but it is wonderful as well as incredibly frightening. She smells of lavender and he sways towards the crook of her neck but she moves away and continues to unlace her top. As she slowly lowers her top, he reminds himself to breathe. Her breasts stand proudly in front of him, her nipples hardening in the cool night air.

_Breathe._

She takes one of his hands and places it on her breast.

_Oh god. Breathe._

She kneels down, her hand still covering his on her breast. She kneads her breast over his hand and he soon follows suit, squeezing and fondling as her hand drops away.

_Breathe. This is no time to die._

This time, her hands reach for his pants and she deftly unties him, loosening his waistband and guiding his hard length out.

"Ok. Right." He finally manages to stand up, although his pants pooling at his ankles means he is unable to move anywhere. She is still kneeling, looking up at him. A shudder runs down his spine when her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, "Guinevere … I'm flattered but … this …"

Hurt flashes across her face and she stands up, pulling up her dress.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, turning away from him, "Your father said …"

"My father? What does this have to do with my father?" he asks incredulously.

She swallows and turns back. "He said you needed to be more worldly and well, he suggested that I should be the one to … well … help you. Not that you need help of course since you are the prince and all and I'm sure you have had plenty of opportunities. But he thinks you're inexperienced and should be introduced to the pleasures of adulthood … you know," she finishes lamely, waving one hand limply.

"My father ordered you to have sex with me," he whispers in dawning horror. She wasn't here because she inexplicably found him attractive but because the king had ordered her to. His heart clenches painfully and he feels a wave of anger sweep through him. He grasps hold of the anger tightly. Better to be angry than to be hurt.

By now, she is looking utterly forlorn. "He was going to compensate me."

He sinks back into his seat, his outrage bubbling. "Is this what you do for extra money?" he snarls, lurching forward and grabbing her arm.

"No! I just … Ijustlikeyoualot," she mumbles, "I think I should go now, sire."

Suddenly he realises that if he lets her walk out now, he would always regret it. Without thinking, he stands and yanks her to him and drops his mouth over hers, coaxing her lips apart so he can sweep his tongue in. The kiss is punishing at first as the two of them work off their hurt and anger but it soon gentles. She leans further into him, moaning into his mouth as she allows her hands to run over his thin shirt. His head is overwhelmed with sensation. He wants to feel her breasts again. Desperately. Wrenching his mouth from her, he pulls her dress down, revealing her gorgeous breasts. This time, he needs no encouragement as he covers them with his hands. Her nipple pucker underneath his palms and he rolls them between his fingers. Her head is resting against his shoulder and he can feel her hot breaths coming fast against him. She is whimpering nonsense while her hands frantically pull at his shirt. He pinches her nipples and she gasps.

"My lord, please" she groans against his neck, her hands fisting in his hair.

Smiling at how out of control she is, he bends to take a nipple into his mouth. She grabs his hair even tighter and she mutters please over and over again. His hands travel lower and pushes her dress to the floor. She is completely naked and he steps back to look at her. Her eyes shut, cheeks flushed and mouth swollen, she is the epitome of sexiness and Arthur throws his shirt off and hauls her to him. Damp skin slides against damp skin as their breaths mingled.

"Touch me, my lord. Touch me," she demands as she presses herself to him. Her hands blindly grab at his bum and pulls him closer. He can feel her wetness as his length prods at her folds. Complying with her demands, he reaches down and cups her core. He has never touched a girl there before and he relishes in the damp heat. He feels her bucking against his hand and his lips searches for hers. She kisses him back eagerly and she dry humps his hand. Instinctively, he allows one finger to slip in. In response, she sucks a harsh breath in. When he brushes her clit, she bites her lips to stifle a scream. He stares as she writhes and grinds along his length. As excited as he is, he is mesmerised by Gwen's response to his touch. She is gasping and moaning, sweat glistening off her slick body. Her hands are grasping at him - his bum, his shoulders, his hair. He presses her clit and she jerks.

"Do that again, sire. Please …" And he does. Once, twice, three times. She shatters, mewing incoherently. Her legs buckles and he grabs her to support her. The two of them sink to the floor.

Her breathing slows and she gazes up at him. He is still hard and he wonders if he should just take things into his own hands. Before he can finish that thought, Gwen is pushing him to the floor. He lies, spread-eagle on the cold, hard floor. More in control now, she curls her hand around his shaft. It's coated with her juices and she slides her hand up and down easily. He finds himself helpless, unable to do anything except surrender to her hands. His eyes drift close and he presses his palms to the floor.

She stops and he moans in protest. Just a bit more, he thinks to himself. He's about to sit up and grab her when his length is suddenly sheathed in her tight, wet heat. His eyes open and he watches with a mixture of lust and awe as Gwen slowly rocks against him. Her full breasts bounce in rhythm and she is staring with unashamed desire at him. Bringing his hands up, he fondles her breasts, eliciting sighs and gasps from her. She is perfection, a goddess he thinks as she rides him, her hair plastered to her damp body, her eyes glazed with lust and her hands flat on his chest. Nothing will ever be as perfect as this moment. He pulls her towards him so that their sweat-slick bodies are touching, her hard nipples pressing against his chest, their stomachs rubbing against each other as she continues to move. Groaning, he lifts his head slightly to captured her lips. For some reason, when he comes, and he can tell it is soon, he wants to be as close to her as possible. She pulls away from the kiss and suckles at his throat, murmuring "my lord" over and over again. When she licks him, it's the last straw and he comes, moaning and jerking under her. He can feel her smile and he lies there, completely spent as she brings herself to completion. He holds her tightly when she finally relaxes on him. Her weight and that fact that he is still in her brings him a great deal of pleasure, different from the one they are recovering from. He whispers her name and kisses her damp hair.

They lie like that for a few minutes before she moves away. He reaches for her, unwilling to let her go but she dodges his arms deftly. As he watches her rush to grab her clothes and pull them on, he feels a growing sense of loss.

"Guinevere," he calls her name softly, hoping she would turn and look at him.

She doesn't. Not really. By now, she is dressed. She turns to him, not meeting his eyes, curtsies and dashes out of the room, leaving him bereft and alone, naked on the dinning room floor.

* * *

 

He stares as Merlin and Guinevere chat along the corridor. She is giggling, her hand on Merlin's arm.

"Are you so free that you can afford to stand around and chat?" Arthur walks towards them, annoyed at Merlin's easy relationship with Gwen. As usual, he notices her stiffen. She makes her excuses, curtsies and disappears. After that evening, Arthur has barely seen her around. When he does, it's always in the course of her duties and there's no time to talk. And he badly wants to talk to her. There are so many questions he wants to ask her - if that was just a one-off thing, why did she agree to sleep with him and if, perhaps, he could see her again.

“Council is in half an hour.” Merlin reports as they walk down the corridor.

“I know.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “You spend a lot of time with Guinevere.”

Merlin stops walking. “We are friends. Why?”

Unsure if Merlin knows what transpired between him and Guinevere some weeks before, Arthur struggles to reply.

“She’s a servant.”

Arthur frowns at this. Merlin’s tone suggests that he disapproves of Arthur’s interest in her. “You are a servant too.”

“Yes, but you’re not attracted to me. You’ll get over her. Don’t be like the others.” Merlin is walking again, as if the conversation is over.

The others? Who are the others and what are they doing with Guinevere?

Arthur spends the rest of the day in the council chambers, listening to discussions on the rebuilding of the lower town after the floods and possible treaties with certain neighbouring kingdom. It’s slightly tedious and Arthur finds himself fantasizing about Guinevere again.

“ -married soon. Arthur?”

Just as Guinevere is about to remove her dress, he is jerked out of this thoughts by his father’s voice.

“Are you listening Arthur?”

“Yes Sire.”

“Well then, I assume you have no objections? There are a few ladies and princesses who are particularly strategic. We can arrange for them to visit and perhaps by your 19th birthday, we will be planning a royal wedding.”

The rest of the council voice their approval. Lord Byron, seated next to him, pats him on the back as Arthur sits there in stunned silence. He knows that as the sole heir to Camelot that marriage would become one of his duties but to have his father foist it on him so soon was a shock.

The council, deeming this issue resolved, moves on to talk about changes in some of the laws. Arthur sits there nodding his head when expected to but listening to nothing.

He is still unsettled after dinner, especially since Guinevere was there serving Morgana. When she leaned over to refill Morgana’s cup or to clear her plates, Arthur could see her dusky cleavage and it took a great deal of will power not to stare. Unable to sleep, he takes a walk in the courtyard. Besides the guards, it is empty and Arthur enjoys the solitude.

Then he sees her, walking from the castle, probably back to her home in the lower town.

“Guinevere!”

She looks around and then spots him. Quickly she drops into a curtsy and waits as he walks over.

“Hello.” Now that he finally has her alone, he isn’t sure what to say. “Can I walk you home?”

That startles her and she stares, open-mouthed at him for a while. “You don’t have to my lord.”

“I would like to. Were you with Morgana?”

She nods, biting her lips as she walks slightly behind him. A rush of desire floods him as he remembers how her lips felt on his bare skin. He wonders if she knows what he is thinking.

Struggling to temper his desire, he asks her about Morgana. It must be a subject she is comfortable with because the tension in her posture eases a little and she chats easily with him about Morgana’s increasingly frequent nightmares. She’s worried, he can tell and he warms at her obvious concern for Morgana.

“You must be tired, working till so late then having to come in early again.”

“I am used to it. Now that I have no family left, there isn’t much else to do. And Morgana needs me. How can I abandon her?”

They reach her small house and for a moment, they hover in awkward silence in front of the door.

“Thank you for walking me home.”

“You’re welcome.”

The tension between them builds and Arthur has a sudden urge to bend down and kiss her. That night, she was in control but now she is standing in front of him, a shyness in her face.

“I should go in.” She gestures at the door.

“I want to kiss you.” The moment the words escape his mouth, he wishes he can take them back.

“Oh.”

His heart sinks and he feels even more foolish. Just because she slept with him once doesn’t mean she wants to repeat the experience again, no matter how much he wants to. Just as he is about to apologise and leave, she tip toes, slips her arms around his neck and kisses him.

* * *

 

Somehow, they manage to make their way into her house despite being all entwined in each other’s arms. She’s kissing him, their tongues tangling. At the same time, her hands have slipped under his linen shirt and her fingers caress his sensitive nipples. Breaking the kiss, they divest themselves of their clothes. With the moonlight shining into the room, Guinevere looks like an angel. They don’t move for a moment, enjoying each other’s nakedness.

Then he pulls her to him. Her puckered nipples brush against his chest and he kisses and nips at her throat. He can both hear and feel her moan, something which only serves to fan the flames of his desire. Moving lower, he takes one nipple into his mouth while he kneads the other. Her hands are in his hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. The last time they were together, he had been so overwhelmed that he hadn't said anything. She laughs in response and tugs him up before leading him to her small bed. They tumble onto it and this time, he finds himself on top of her.

"You're beautiful too." She smiles as she pushes his hair off his face. Her fingers slowly, tenderly trace a path down his arm to his hip. His length rubs against the apex of her thighs and he can feel her lifting her hips and grinding against him. For a while, they are content to kiss and explore each other's body. He presses kisses along her body, moving lower and lower until he is practically off her bed and nuzzling at her wet heat. She moans and tosses on her bed, her hands pressing him closer. He's never been so intimate with a girl before and she fascinates him. When he presses against the nub, she jerks. He slips a finger, then two inside her and her hips rotate as she moans louder. That he is the one getting this response from her turns him on even more.

Then he licks her. She gasps and thrusts into his face. "More, please, my lord." The taste is odd but he continues to lick at her, loving how out of control she appears to be. As he licks, he rubs her clit and it doesn't take long before she comes, mewing and gasping. He can't help the sense of satisfaction that sweeps through him. Slowly he climbs back on the bed.

She comes once more that night, this time, almost together with him. Pleasure hums through him as he tucks Guinevere into his side. The bed is a little tiny but they manage.

"It's late. You should go back to the castle." Guinevere pulls from his embrace and stands up. He feels like cold water has been poured on him and he watches with growing disappointment as she pulls on her shift and tosses his clothes to him.

"I could stay as long as I return before Merlin wakes."

"No. The bed is too small. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable back in your room." There is no warmth in her voice and she seems eager that he leaves. So he does.

* * *

 

Guinevere occupies his mind for the rest of the next day. He even loses to Sir Leon on the training field, something he hasn't done in years.

"What's distracting you? All the girls you are about to meet?" Sir Roland teases as they leave the training field.

Arthur groans. Gossip travels fast in the castle. "Who told you?"

"Everyone is talking about it. So, have you thought about what kind of wife you want?"

Immediately an image of Guinevere pops into his mind. “I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve thought about much.”

“I guess you’ll be thinking about it for quite a bit this year. I hear Lady Sabina will be arriving soon.”

Arthur grunts in response. He hasn’t seen Sabina in years and the last time, they barely got along. What makes his father think that he was going to want to marry her now?

“I hear she’s become very beautiful. If I were you, I’d treasure your freedom now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, enjoy the sweetness of the servants while you still can. Your wife might not like you consorting with the help in future.” Roland slaps him on the back.

Merlin’s words pops into his head again and this time, guilt fills him. He needs to speak to Guinevere now, find out what is happening between them.

He wanders the corridors hoping to catch sight of her but he is out of luck. Turning the corner, he bumps into Morgana instead.

“Morgana!” If Morgana is here, surely Guinevere must be nearby. He looks around.

“Arthur. Were you looking for me? Arthur?”

“Oh no. Not really.” There is no sign of Guinevere.

Morgana merely raises one eyebrow as she stares at him. He fidgets under her stare. “If you are wondering where my maid is, she is packing my chambers. I trust you will treat her well.”

Speechlessly, he stares as Morgana walks away.

He hesitates outside the room before finally knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Her back is turned and she is busy rearranging Morgana’s table.

“Erm - it’s me.”

As usual, she scrambles and curtsies to him. “Can I help you my lord?”

“We need to talk.” What about he isn’t very sure but he is sure that there are things they need to discuss.

“This isn’t a good time.” Guinevere has turned her back to him again, as if dismissing him.

“What about tonight? After you are done with your duties?”

She is silent.

“Please. It’ll just be to talk.”

Finally, she turns back to him and nods. “The kitchens? There will be no one there after supper.”

The rest of the day passes slowly. There is the usual council meeting and various paperwork his father has transferred to him. He goes into the lower town to check how the rebuilding is going. All in all, it’s a busy day and yet, he finds himself constantly thinking of Guinevere and impatiently hoping that night would fall soon.

It takes a while but supper finally ends. Not wanting to appear too eager, he spends a bit of time in his room before making his way to the kitchens. He hasn’t been there since he was a child but it looks exactly as he remembered.

“My lord.”

“Guinevere.” The sight of her causes his heart to speed up. “Sit with me?”

Carefully, she sits next to him, keeping a slight distance. “What would you like to talk about?”

It is quite surreal how polite and distant she is. This is the woman who just last night was begging him to take her. Now she can barely look into his eyes and seems to want to be anywhere but with him.

“I -” And he realises he has no idea how to broach the subject. “I really enjoy being with you.”

His words seem to relax her. She laughs lightly and the tension in him eases a little. “I enjoy having sex with you too my lord. But do not worry. I am not foolish to think you feel anything more than lust for me. That is why you wanted to talk is it not?”

“I suppose.” Her words surprise him although he is not sure what he expected.

“Then it should please you to know that aside from desire, I am not in love with you. I know my place.”

“You desire me?”

Again she laughs that pretty laugh of hers and he feels an urge to pull her close to him. “You know I do, sire. Why else would I agree to have sex with you?”

“I feared you might have felt you had no choice.”

Her smile slides off her face and he regrets his words. He likes her cheery and smiling.

“It was my choice sire. No one forced me. I know some of the other servants are bullied into sleeping with some of the nobles but I volunteered.”

“Because you desired me?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?” The laugh is back but she is looking away.

He cups her face and turns her to face him. Then he does what he has been aching to do ever since he saw her in the kitchen. He kisses her.

* * *

 

That night in the kitchens they come to an agreement. Arthur isn’t completely happy with it but he is unable to pinpoint why. Still, they agree to continue having sex with each other.

“It’s just sex,” she said, curled in his embrace that night. “Nothing more.”

He had agreed.

And although it has been a week since, they can’t seem to get enough of each other.

And that is why they are in the alcoves and Guinevere is on her knees, taking him in her mouth. He threads his fingers in her hair, biting on his lip to stop himself from making too much noise. It doesn’t take long before he spills in her mouth. She stands and he pulls her to him, kissing her frantically as his hand hikes her skirts up and slip underneath. As usual, she is wet for him and he rubs her with his fingers until she shudders and comes against him.

“Did that relieve your stress?” She teases him as she rearranges her clothes.

“For a while. I hate quarrelling with my father but really, how can he refuse to send Gaius down to the villages to find out why so many people are dying? I would go but I wouldn’t be much use.” He ties up his breeches as he talks.

“Perhaps you can go with Merlin. Your father won’t find that strange. You go everywhere with Merlin.”

He glances around the corridor to ensure there is no one before he slides out of the alcove and pulling Guinevere with him. Immediately she drops his hand and moves to a respectable distance.

“Merlin?”

“You do realise he is Gaius’s pupil. What do you think he does when he’s not with you?”

“I always thought he was at the tavern.”

Again, she laughs and again, his heart soars. But then, there are footsteps and she quickly sobers up and takes another step from him. A guard rounds the corner. Guinevere curtsies and leaves. He hopes the guard doesn’t notice but he stands there and watches till she is out of his sight.

Her suggestion still in his mind, he decides to look for Gaius and Merlin.

“Gaius!”

“Arthur. What brings you here?”

“It’s about the villages in the East. Reports of dead bodies keep coming in from our patrols.”

Gaius stops fussing with his bottles and looks at him. “Your father feels that there is nothing that can be done. He means to stop people from those villages from coming into Camelot in case they are carrying something dangerous.”

“We can’t just let them die like that and simply protect the main city.”

“I know Arthur but your father has expressively forbidden me from travelling to the villages. I don’t see what else we can do.”

“I’ll go with Merlin. He knows some things about healing right?”

“Yes. He is a quick learner. I’ll brief him.”

“Don’t tell my father.”

“Of course.”

Arthur can’t decide how he feels when he ends up riding out with not just Merlin, but Morgana and Guinevere. It’s all Merlin’s doing of course. First, he suggests that Guinevere comes along to help. Then, because she refuses, using Morgana as a reason, suddenly Morgana has decided to tag along as well. And now all of them are on their way to the eastern villages. He is pleased to have Guinevere along but with Merlin and Morgana, he doubts he will get any chance alone with her.

They spin some story for Uther who is suspicious but says nothing except to remind Arthur that he needs to be back before Lady Sabina arrives. The ride out is uneventful. Merlin contributes most of the chatter, mainly about inane nonsense that Arthur isn’t terribly interested in. But Guinevere is and she rides beside Merlin, indulging him in conversation.

“I don’t know what you and Gwen are up to but if you hurt her, I will make you hurt even more.” Morgana leads her horse closer to his and threatens in a low tone.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Morgana scoffs, “I am not blind. I see the way you look at her and the way you accidentally brush against her when she serves you. But I also see that she doesn’t flinch from you the way she does with others.”

Arthur says nothing. His relationship with Guinevere is private, not something he plans to discuss with Morgana. Not now at least. Morgana gets the hint and changes the topic.

They make camp in the forest and Arthur volunteers to take the first watch. As tired as everyone is, it doesn’t take long before the others are fast asleep.

“My lord?”

His heart starts racing the moment she sits next to him, in front of the fire.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? We have a long day tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Morgana and Merlin are fast asleep.” She eases herself closer to him and it feels only natural to slip his arm around her shoulder and hold her. She rests her head on his shoulder and in the quiet of the night, this moment feels infinitely precious.

“Merlin thinks that perhaps after we finish with what we need to do in the villages, we can make a trip to Ealdor to visit his mother.”

“If time permits.”

“He will be pleased. He misses her.”

There is a wistfulness in her tone and he looks at her. “Do you miss your mother?”

“Sometimes I wish I did. Because that would mean I remember enough of her to miss. I used to remember her laugh and the way she sang to me but the memories are fading. All I have are the stories my father used to tell me.”

“Aside from the large portrait of my mother hanging in the castle, I don’t know anything about her. Father won’t talk about her and I think he has banned anyone from mentioning her.” He pauses a while. It has been a long time since he had spoken about his mother to anyone. “Tell me about yours.”

It’s a little strange to be with Guinevere and not be having sex. They did talk sometimes when lying together and recovering from their exertions but those were short, superficial. Now, as Guinevere leans into him and tells him about her mother, he feels something stir in him. He looks at her face in the firelight, the mix of sadness and regret, and it occurs to him that he knows exactly how Morgana feels. There is no way he can bear it if anyone hurt her.

The sound of Merlin scrambling awake breaks them apart. Merlin eyes them suspiciously but says nothing as he takes his position. Guinevere curtsies as she leaves the area while Arthur lingers a little more.

“You are to be married soon.” Merlin stares into the fire.

“I know.”

“I thought you were better than the other nobles.” The censure in Merlin’s voice irks Arthur but he says nothing. “I can’t believe you are doing this to her.”

“I’m not doing anything she’s not willing to do.” He can’t believe he is discussing this with Merlin.

“I hope you two know what you are doing then. Don’t hurt her.” The censure has become a plea and Arthur nods. He would never hurt Guinevere, not if he could help it.

* * *

 

The rest of the journey is uneventful. Merlin is surprisingly adept at being a physician and with Guinevere’s help administers Gaius’s medicine to the villagers. His hope that this is the end of this situation is dashed when Merlin comes up to him and Morgana.

“The medicine will only provide temporary relief. There’s something wrong with the water. If we don’t solve that, then they will forever be blighted by this.”

Morgana immediately questions. “What is wrong with the water?”

“I suspect it is polluted. The solution is simple enough. We need to build new wells for them.”

Arthur groans. His father cares little for the small villages far from Camelot. There is little chance that he will be willing to provide resources to build wells without demanding more from them. And from what he has observed, these people has little more to offer the city.

“Well then, I guess we need to let Uther know and ask him to send some of the knights down.” Morgana looks knowingly at him and he sighs. He knows she expects him to ensure that Uther does that. But to do that mean admitting that he went against his father’s orders. Yet, he couldn’t let his people suffer like that.

The issue weighed heavily on him as they made the slow ride back to Camelot. For some reason Guinevere ends up riding next to him as Morgana and Merlin ride in front.

“Are you alright?”

“No. I dread facing my father.”

“He’s not the easiest person to deal with.”

“That, I think, is an understatement.” Morgana pipes in, “but Arthur here is his darling son so I’m sure he’ll listen to you and you’ll do the right thing.”

It is ridiculous. He knows Morgana is playing him but he also knows he is going to do what she wants as well.

They spend a day in Ealdor where he meets Merlin’s mother for the first time. She coos and fusses over him and it lifts his spirits, despite the awful mess that passes for food in Ealdor. After dinner, he wanders off to the forest surrounding the tiny village, eager to get away from Morgana and her constant hints about how he needs to deal with Uther.

“My lord?” Guinevere suddenly appears next to him, a bowl in her hands. “You didn’t finish your dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” He is but he really doesn’t want to eat the gruel in that bowl.

“You shouldn’t waste the food. They worked hard for it and they kindly gave up their share for you! The least you could do is finish it.”

She is right, he realises. These people work hard for their food and he was wasting it. He takes the bowl from her and forces himself to finish the food. “You’re right. I should have been a bit more thoughtful.”

She is looking down and her right foot is scuffing the earth. There’s a nervousness in her demeanour. “Guinevere?”

“It was not my place to speak to you like that sire.” Her eyes are still downcast and she edges away from him.

“Guinevere.” He places the bowl on the ground and puts his finger under her chin, tilting her head up so she is looking at him. “It is your every right to tell me when I have made a mistake.”

He can see the conflict in her eyes and he moves closer to her. This time, the conflict is replaced by desire and she smiles coyly at him, slipping her arm around his waist. Praying desperately that no one would decide on a walk in the forest that moment, Arthur bends down and kisses her.

When she moans and her hands slip under his shirt to trace the muscles on his back, he is lost in a haze of need and desire. He unties her bodice, something he has become very adept at, and pushes her dress down. In return, he feels her hands against him, pulling at the ties on his breeches.

“I missed this so much,” he mutters into her ear as he licks and nibbles it. Her only response is to dip her hands into his breeches and fish his length out. Her small hands wrap around him and stroke gently. Growling, he suckles her exposed throat and smiles when she gasps and writhes in his arms. Their clothes pooling around their ankles make it difficult to move, but he manages to move them so that she is pressed against a tree.

“Someone might come,” she gasps although her hands are shoving at his shirt, trying to get it out of the way. He can feel the cool evening air on his damp skin. Reaching down, he slips his fingers into her, pumping slowly, the way he knows makes her go wild. And she does. She claws at his shoulders, her head lolling against the tree. Acutely aware that they are in public, he quickly thrusts into her. She screams and he quickly covers her mouth.

“Shh.” For a while, they stand there motionless, hoping no one heard them.

He moves, slowly at first but at her urging, increases his speed. Her hands are all over, teasing his nipples then running over his hips.

“Kiss me, my lord.” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Taking her face in his hands, he kisses her desperately. For some reason, he can’t get enough of her and even though they’ve done this several times over the past weeks, it’s still as exciting as their first time. She trembles under him and he’s so aroused that he can barely maintain a proper rhythm. Still kissing her, he reaches down to flick her clit, wanting to feel her come against his length.

Her moans are swallowed by him and she tightens around him.

“Arthur,” she gasps. It’s the first time she’s used his name and it sends him over the edge. He is thrusting erratically and she is clutching his bum. Once he spills in her, his legs are barely able to keep him standing, much less support Guinevere who is slumped against him. With as much gentleness as possible, he slides them both to the ground, onto the clothes they shed. At the back of his mind, it registers that their clothes are going to be stained but he is too satisfied, too full of happiness to care. He cuddles her close, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Most of the time, she would insist on leaving the moment they finished so on the rare occassions that she stayed, he cherished.

It doesn’t last long as she stirs. “We should go back,” she says as she wriggles out of his embrace and starts to pull on her dress. As always, disappointment rises in him but he doesn’t let it show. When they are finally dressed, he lets her return to the village first while he stays a while more in the forest.

* * *

 

 

When they return to Camelot, his father is busy and cannot see him. From Sir Leon, he learns that Lady Sabina is expected to arrive in a few days and then he notices the castle has been prepared for her arrival. There are flowers everywhere and he sees the servants on their hands and knees scrubbing the various rooms. He sighs as he makes his way to the training ground. Frankly, he isn't very keen on seeing Sabina again.  
  
"You're back!" Sir Tomas gleefully yells from across the field. "Say hello to our newest recruit!" Tomas practically shoves a young man towards Arthur.  
  
“Sire.” He bows deeply. “Sir Tomas is mistaken. I am not a recruit. It is merely the generosity of Sir Leon that I am allowed to train with the knights.”  
  
“If you are good enough to train with the knights, why are you not recruited?” Arthur studies the man in front of him. He looks fit enough.  
  
“Unfortunately,” Sir Tomas wraps an arm around the man’s shoulders and says, “he’s not from any of the royal houses so he can’t become a knight.”  
  
Arthur’s curiosity is piqued. Sir Leon is a stickler for rules so he can’t imagine why this man is allowed to train with the knights. “What’s your name and how did you get Sir Leon to let you train with the knights?”  
  
“I am Lancelot, my lord. It was my good fortune that as I was passing through Camelot, I happened to see Sir Leon in need of help -”  
  
Sir Tomas interrupts, “what Lancelot here is saying is that he saved Sir Leon’s life and this is his reward.”  
  
“Well than, Lancelot. I would love to see how good you are with a sword.” Arthur draws his. “How about a friendly spar?”  
  
By the time Arthur has Lancelot on the ground at his mercy, he is thoroughly convinced of Lancelot’s skill in battle. With a grin, he hauls Lancelot up and claps his back. “You are good. I’m glad to have you train with us.”  
  
“The knights are planning a trip to the tavern this evening. Why don’t you join us Lancelot?” Sir Tomas suggests. “You will be there too won’t you Sire?”  
  
In all honesty, Arthur had hoped to visit Guinevere’s home but he supposes it wouldn’t look nice to turn down an invitation. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You should join us Lancelot.”  
  
Later in the day, he finally gets an audience with his father. It isn’t pretty especially when his father learns that Arthur disobeyed orders and went to the villages in the east. Arthur accepts the lecture quietly, knowing that any further display of defiance would get him nowhere. He does manage to get his father to consider building new wells in the villages. It is no guarantee that his father will build the wells but it is a start.  
  
The highlight of the day is of course when he bumps into Guinevere in one of the rooms being prepared for Sabina’s arrival.  
  
“Guinevere!” She turns and smiles at him and he feels his heart leap. No matter how often he sees her, there is still the slight thrill that shoots through him.  
  
“My lord.” Her smile widens and she moves towards him, her hips swaying as she walks. Unsurprisingly, he feels his groin tighten. Closing the door, he makes sure the latch is secure before turning to her. She laughs as he nuzzles her neck and his heart swells. If he could make her laugh every day, he thinks he would be a happy man.  
  
“You are a tease,” she whispers just before he captures her lips with his.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sir Tomas, Sir Leon, Sir Roland and Lancelot are all in the tavern, clearly in high spirits when Arthur arrives. Conversation flows easily as the knights banter and tease, Lancelot being new, the butt of all jokes.  
  
“Are you planning to stay in Camelot long?” Arthur asks. He has just learnt that Lancelot is a mercenary, going to wherever his trade takes him.  
  
Sir Roland guffaws and speaks before Lancelot can. “He might have been quite the wanderer before but I believe he has just discovered a reason to stay in Camelot.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
Lancelot looks a little uncomfortable but he shakes his head. “They are speaking nonsense my lord.”  
  
“What Lancelot here is not telling you is that he met someone today and is now mooning over her.” Tomas says, amusement thick in his voice.  
  
“And who is this lucky girl? Do I know her? I hope it isn’t Morgana.” Arthur laughs.  
  
Clearly keen to avoid the topic, Lancelot merely rolls his eyes and concentrates on the tankard in front of him.  
  
Tomas, having no qualms about gossiping about Lancelot, continues, “I’m sure you know her. The girl who has caught dear Lancelot’s eye is Morgana’s handmaiden. What was her name?”  
  
"Guinevere?" Arthur blurts out, his mood suddenly taking a turn for the worse.  
  
The knights, full of mead and good spirits, don’t notice the scowl on Arthur’s face. “That’s right,” Roland chuckles. “She’s a pretty one. Lancelot here is such a good looking lad that I’m sure they make a gorgeous couple.”  
  
“How would you know if she’s interested anyway?” Arthur can’t help the sulk that leaks into his voice. Leon is looking at him, a frown on his face but the other two knights are still teasing Lancelot, who is looking increasingly uncomfortable.  
  
“Leave him alone. If you keep teasing him, he’ll be gone tomorrow morning.” Arthur struggles to keep his tone light and he is thankful that they change topics easily, this time laughing over some mishap that befell Sir Roland in the morning. He smiles, nods and laughs when he needs to but he doesn’t register a word that is said.  
  
Somehow, only he and Lancelot are not completely wasted by the end of the night and together they struggle to get the rest of the knights back to their chambers.  
  
“Where are you staying?”  
  
“At the tavern my lord. For now. If I decide to stay long, perhaps I will have to look for more permanent lodging.”  
  
“Are you planning to stay then? Because of Guinevere?” He doesn’t mean to probe but there is this need to know.  
  
Lancelot flushes and nods. “She is a compelling reason. I see her and my world brightens. She is like the sun in the darkness that is my life.”  
  
“Oh. You’ve spoken to her then?” There’s a growing sense of unease in him.  
  
“Oh I haven’t had the chance. I fear I might be too in awe to speak. But the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew that there can be no one else for me.” Lancelot is earnest with his words and the unease in Arthur only grows.  
  
He waits till Lancelot enters the tavern again before he seeks Guinevere out. He needs to see her tonight.  
  
“I am sorry. I was hoping you would still be awake.”  
  
Guinevere is standing in front of him, wrapped in her shawl and with sleepy eyes. “What is it?” She raises her hand to her mouth to hide her yawn.  
  
He looks at her and he thinks of Merlin and Morgana, of how worried they are that he would hurt her. He thinks of Lancelot and the depth of his feelings for Guinevere. He thinks of Sabina and how he has to marry soon.  
  
“Sire? Would you like to come in?”  
  
“No.” His next words are difficult to say but necessary. “ I just came to tell you that we need to stop seeing each other.”  
  
For a moment he thinks he sees hurt and disappointment cross her face but it disappears quickly and he’s not sure. It’s just sex, she said before. Nothing more.  
  
“Of course my lord.” He’s not sure what he expected. Her to protest? To beg? Instead, she is looking calmly at him. “If there is nothing else, I should get some sleep.”  
  
When he says nothing, she steps back into her house and closes the door. For a long time, he stands outside her house. There’s an uncomfortable numbness in his heart and for once in his life, he feels completely lost.  
  


* * *

  
  
It is two days later when he sees Guinevere again, having carefully avoided areas where he knows she would be. She is laughing at something another servant says as they polish the vases littered around the castle corridors. Her laugh is carefree and her eyes are sparkling. He leaves before she sees him.  
  
Merlin comes barging into his room as he is reading to inform him that Lady Sabina is about to arrive in Camelot. Peering out of his window, he can see the guards getting into formation. It is with some reluctance that he changes into his formal wear and makes his way to the courtyard, Merlin as usual on his heels. Morgana and his father are already there and Morgana smiles amusedly at him.  
  
The horns sound and Arthur watches as the horses and carriage pull up to the courtyard. It is obvious that Lady Sabina is from a wealthy family, probably the reason she is considered a suitable match. As is expected of him, he opens the carriage door and helps her down. He doesn’t know what he is expecting but his first thought is that she isn't Guinevere.  
  
The hair that tumbles down past her shoulders is pale blond and straight, unlike the dark curls Guinevere has. She is tall, almost his height. He doesn’t need to bend to kiss her. Her eyes are blue, unlike the warm brown ones he loves to drown in. She isn’t Guinevere and that knowledge is like a blow to his stomach.  
  
His father embraces her. “Sabina! It’s been years! Here, you remember Arthur and Morgana."  
  
Arthur takes her hand and kisses it. “Lady Sabina, we are honoured to have you here.”  
  
She giggles as she withdraws her hand.  
  
“Show her to her room Arthur. Then when you have freshened up, we can meet for tea in the dining hall.”  
  
Merlin immediately takes her trunk and follows behind them.  
  
“The last time I saw you, I believe you were planting spiders in my bed. I hope you have outgrown that by now.” Sabina puts a hand on his arm and smiles at him.  
  
“You won’t have to worry about spiders in your bed this trip my lady.” He wants to remove her hand from his arm but doesn’t.  
  
“Well, I was hoping to find something else in my bed this trip.” Somehow she has moved even closer to him, the smile on her face sultry and her eyes hooded. He hears Morgana stifle a laugh behind him.  
  
This time he does move away from her so her hand falls from his arm. Thankfully they are at her room. He pushes the door open and gestures for her to enter. “I hope you find it to your liking.”  
  
He leaves her presence as soon as he can. Thankfully Morgana is there to keep her company.  
  
Tea is an awkward affair. Sabina is flirty, outgoing and appears to have a great sense of humour but Arthur is in a foul mood. For his father’s sake, he tries to be a good host but his heart isn’t in it. All he can think of is Guinevere and how much he misses her.  
  
“Perhaps I can watch you in training tomorrow. I always enjoy a rousing fight.” Sabina is touching him again.  
  
"That sounds like a great idea. My brother here thinks he is the best warrior in this land. I'm sure he'll be eager to impress you."  
  
“We would love to have you there.” He reluctantly agrees.  
  
The morning is far too cheerful for his liking. Sword in hand, Arthur makes his way to the training ground, wondering if Sabina is already there. She isn’t but Guinevere is. When he notices her, he stops walking, unsure of what to do next. Then he realises she isn’t alone. Lancelot is with her and her hand is in his.  
  
“Come on! We don’t have all day!” He yells at the knights. Lancelot brushes a kiss on Guinevere’s forehead and she blushes prettily. He remembers the last time he saw her blush - he was suckling her breast and telling her how perfect she was. She looks up and catches his eye. She smiles. He turns away and yells some more at his knights.  
  
Throughout the training session, Arthur is acutely aware that Guinevere is watching. There is a mixture of anger, hurt and despair swirling in him and he is completely useless on the field. The newer knights take longer to defeat and Sir Tomas who has never bettered him before manages to knock his sword from his hand. Sir Leon suggests that he rest but he refuses, insisting that Lancelot spar with him.  
  
Lancelot is, unsurprisingly, skilled and for a while there is no clear victor. But Arthur is less careful in his emotional state and Lancelot soon has the upper hand. A quick hit and Arthur feels the blade of Lancelot’s sword slide against his arm. Immediately Lancelot drops his sword and rushes over to Arthur.  
  
“I’ll be fine.”  
  
Sabina is beside him too, worrying and fussing. He hasn’t realised she is at the training ground. Lancelot is apologising and suddenly everything is too much. He grabs his sword and walks off, blood trickling down his arm.  
  
“Arthur!” “My lord!”  
  
He doesn’t turn back.  
  


* * *

  
  
“You are an idiot,” states Merlin quite matter of factly. Arthur is too exhausted to even retort. He simply lies on the bed as Merlin bandages his wound.  
  
The door opens and he is surprised to see Guinevere slip into his room. His spirits lift before he remembers how Lancelot was looking at her and how she allowed him to kiss her. Merlin, for once not completely unaware, decides to excuse himself.  
  
“How are you?”  
  
How can she stand there and pretend she cares? He turns away so he doesn’t have to see her. It’s childish but he doesn’t care.  
  
“Sire.”  
  
“Go away.” He doesn’t want her here. He doesn’t want to face what he can’t have. Because he knows now what he should have known earlier. It was never just sex for him.  
  
“Stop being a baby. You are the one who said to stop seeing each other so I don’t know why you are acting like I did something wrong.”  
  
“Was it easy? Going from one bed to another? Who did I replace in your bed Guinevere?”  
  
“Who I sleep with is none of your business and if I want to sleep with Lancelot, I will.”  
  
The anger in him rises and he jumps out of the bed. She bites her lips but doesn’t move. Instead she lifts her head in a show of defiance. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, prince of Camelot or not.”  
  
“No? Why don’t you tell me if sleeping with Lancelot is as good as the sex we had.” He’s as close as he can get to her without touching her. Her breathing comes faster and he is sure his is too. He can smell the hint of lavender on her and desire curls in him.  
  
“You are an ass,” she hisses and hits him on the chest. He grabs her wrist. The feel of her soft skin under his is his undoing. Pulling her closer so she’s plastered against him, he kisses her. She sinks into him and parts her lips, allowing his tongue entry.  
  
Then he realises what he is doing and pulls away.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You should go.” What was wrong with him? Didn’t he tell himself he would never hurt her?  
  
“Sire.” Her hand cups his cheek, her thumb softly stroking him. “Kiss me.”  
  
He does. It’s desperate and he pours all his feelings into it, wanting her to feel just how much she means to him. Her fingers curl into his hair and she presses herself even closer to him. It occurs to him that this is his last time with her. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he unties her bodice, letting it slip to the floor. Taking a step back, he stares at her. He remembers to the time before he knew her, how he thought she was the person he wanted to be. She is a little flushed but she stands there, letting his eyes drink her in. He wants to remember this moment forever - when she is standing there in her pink dress, cheeks red and eyes clouded with desire.  
  
“My lord.” Her voice is rough and she reaches for him.  
  
“Let’s do this slowly.” Taking her hand, he kisses her palm then takes one finger into his mouth, sucking gently on it. He can feel her shudder and her mouth drops open as she breathes heavily and sways towards him. She removes her finger from him and lifts up his shirt so she can run her hands over him. When she brushes against the waistband of his breeches, he sucks in a breath and waits. She doesn’t disappoint as one hand slips in to touch him. He cannot help the groan that escapes him when he feels her cool fingers curl around him. His clothes feel too tight and he helps her remove them. Then he peels off her dress, enjoying the slow reveal of her body. She may not be perfect, but in his eyes, she was the most beautiful person.  
  
His mouth follows his hands, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along her body until he is kneeling in front of her, his tongue laving her shivering inner thighs. He thinks about how she’s the only person he would kneel for and tells her as much. Her response is to sink to the floor and taking his face in her hands, kiss him.  
  
“I much rather continue on the bed,” she whispers. “It’s not every day I get to lie on a royal bed.”  
  
“You can lie in my bed any day,” he growls as he stands and scoops her into his arms. It’s his first time carrying her and it’s obvious she finds it amusing. He scowls at her and she just laughs as she peppers his face with kisses. Dropping her onto the bed, he stands back to admire her, hair spread on his bed covers, naked and smiling fondly at him.  
  
“You are too far away,” she murmurs. He doesn’t take long to remedy that. Lying side by side, facing each other, they leisurely explore every inch of each other’s bodies, as if trying to make the moment last forever.  
  
“Look at me,” he commands as he slides into her, capturing her gasp with his mouth. He starts out slow but Guinevere is moaning and moving desperately under him, testing his control. She is kneading her breasts, pulling at her nipples as she breaths his name over and over again. He pushes her legs higher until she eventually just slings them over his shoulders and he thrusts in her frantically. Whatever rhythm they established earlier is unravelling and Arthur can no longer tell where he ends and she begins.  
  
“Look at me,” he mutters again when her eyes flutter close. “I want to look at you when you come.” She opens her eyes and gazes at him. Her hand moves from where it is clutching at his shoulder down to where her hips meet his.  
  
She shatters, pulsing around his length. It doesn’t take long before he is spilling his seed in her as well. He collapses against her and she holds him. For a while, they lie in his bed, all wrapped up in each other.  
  
“Stay with me.” He feels her tense at his words and he cuddles her closer to him. “Just for a while.”  
  
She lets out a breath and nods.  
  
“Let me pretend for a while.”  
  
Raising herself on her elbow, she looks curiously at him. “Pretend what?”  
  
“That this isn’t just sex. That we’re two people who care for each other.” His heart is in his mouth as he says it, afraid she will pour cold water on his thoughts.  
  
But she doesn’t. Instead she snuggles closer to him and gently runs her hand across his bandaged arm.  
  
“Does it hurt?”  
  
“Not really. Guinevere. Is Lancelot -” He isn’t sure how to ask the question. He isn’t sure he has the right to ask.  
  
“He’s a decent man. The kind all mothers wish their daughters marry.”  
  
“Will you marry him if he asks?”  
  
“It wouldn’t be a hardship.” She turns from him although she remains in his embrace.  
  
“I don’t want you to marry him.” He regrets it the moment he says it because she’s pulling away from him and sitting up.  
  
“What do you want sire? You want me to be your mistress until you tire of me? Until you marry Lady Sabina? What about what I want?” He hears the tears in her voice and when he looks up at her, he sees the tears in her eyes.  
  
He takes her hands. “What do you want?”  
  
“What does it matter?” She pulls her hands from his and he panics when he realises she is about to leave.  
  
Scrambling from the bed, he goes to where is she pulling on her dress. “Guinevere.”  
  
“I need to go. I thought - I thought I could do this but I can’t. Not anymore.”  
  
“Guinevere!” He grabs her before she can leave because he suspects that if she leaves now, this would be the end of them. “Please.”  
  
“I can’t sleep with you anymore.”  
  
“We don’t have to have sex. I just, I don’t want to lose you.”  
  
“But that’s all we have - sex.”  
  
“That’s not true. We get along well, you keep me sane when things in the castle get hectic and you never take me seriously. I’m not just a prince with you.”  
  
“No.” She sighs. “You’re more than a prince. And that’s the problem. Because we both want more but we can’t have more. You’re going to marry someone like Lady Sabina and well, I will marry someone hopefully as good as Lancelot. And this little affair of ours will be just a moment in our history.”  
  
“Then lets make the moment last longer,” he says as he pulls her to him. She hesitates for a while then flings herself at him.  
  
For the first time, they make love, whispering words of affection to each other. Later that night, they do it again and he manages to get her to stay through the night.  
  


* * *

  
  
Arthur feels like he is walking on air for the next few days. Even having to humour Lady Sabina doesn’t annoy him too much. All that matters is that Guinevere spends every night with him and for those few hours, under the cover of darkness, they can ignore how impossible everything is and live in the cocoon of their feelings for each other.  
  
It is too much to hope that no one notices.  
  
After two weeks, Lady Sabina leaves. His father is unhappy that he shows no interest in her but Arthur cannot care less. He can’t wait to be able to spend more time with Guinevere now that he is no longer expected to keep Sabina company.  
  
“I want to talk to you.” Morgana is standing in his room, looking disapprovingly at him.  
  
“What about?” Arthur tries to sound as nonchalant as possible. Idly, he pushed the papers on this table about as he waited for Morgana to speak.  
  
“You and Guinevere.”  
  
“What about me and Guinevere?” His heart is beating hard and he wonders if Morgana can hear it.  
  
"I heard her turn Lancelot down today. Said she was involved with someone else." Arthur cannot help the joy that shoots through him and he tries to hide his smile.  
  
"Poor Lancelot." He doesn't mean it but he figures it's the right thing to say. Morgana glares at him.  
  
"Stop acting like I'm stupid. You're sleeping with my maid and leading her on, pretending the two of you have some sort of future together. I don't care that you are sleeping with her but I care that she's turning down a perfectly good suitor because of you. Lancelot can give her a home, a family. What can you offer her? A position as your mistress?"  
  
"I -" He wants to defend himself but the truth in Morgana's words sinks in. They have been lying to themselves, pretending that they have a future.  
  
"Arthur," Morgana is sympathetic. "It may seem now that she is all you want but there are many girls out there who are of appropriate background, some of whom you'll be happy with."  
  
Something snaps in Arthur. "Don't cheapen my feelings for Guinevere like that. She's not a doll that can be replaced." He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. "Thank you for your concern."  
  
She steals into his room late in the night as she usually does. Before he can say anything, she's tugging at his clothes and kissing his throat. For a moment, Morgana's words echoes in his head but when Guinevere wriggles against him and sucks on his ear lobe, he picks her up and tumbles into bed with her.  
  
"You're not listening," she says against his chest later, in the middle of telling him a story about something that happened in the kitchens.  
  
His arm tightens around her. "I'm sorry. I'm just distracted."  
  
"Your father? Do you want to talk about it?" She shifts to look at him.  
  
"Do you know how much you mean to me?"  
  
"A lot I would hope,” she chuckles and kisses his nose. “After all, I haven’t slept in my own bed for days.”  
  
There’s a happiness in her eyes and affection in her touch, and he wonders how to broach the topic with her. When he takes too long to answer her, she realises something is wrong and he feels her withdraw from him, the warmth in her eyes cooling.  
  
“Are you breaking up with me again?”  
  
“Guinevere. I -”  
  
“No, you don’t have to say anything. I understand.” She leaves the bed calmly and picks up her clothes. “I suppose I always knew at the back of my head this was really all some silly fantasy. Which prince would want a servant? And I was your first, wasn’t I? I guess that all that emotions fooled you.”  
  
Maybe it is the sight of Guinevere angrily pulling on her dress. Maybe it is the idea that she doesn’t believe his feelings for her. But it is that moment that Arthur realises that breaking up with Gwen is not an option.  
  
“Listen to me. You’re right. I was going to break up with you because I was a coward.”  
  
“Great.” She ties up her bodice, her trembling fingers making things difficult. Arthur gets out of bed and covers her hands with his.  
  
“But I don’t want to be a coward and I don’t want to lose you.”  
  
She stops fumbling with the ribbons and watches him cautiously.  
  
“We just need to work out what to do. Morgana spoke to me and she was right as well. I may be a prince but what can I offer you?”  
  
“You are a prince. You can offer whatever you want to offer. You have power. I don’t. Morgana is wrong. There’s no reason you should be bound to rules you don’t believe in, especially since you are the prince. I believe in you. I believe you will do the right thing and I am willing to wait for you. But if you don’t believe in us, if you are going to take the easy way out and marry some other suitable noble, then tell me now.”  
  
He looks at Guinevere standing there, head held high and so much a better and stronger person than he is.  
  
“It’s not going to be easy.”  
  
“I never thought it would.” She cups his face. “I love you Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot. My choice is to be with you. What do you choose?”  
  
There is really only one answer to that.

* * *

 

  
~ Epilogue ~  
  
Too many things happen in the intervening years - Morgana’s betrayal, Merlin’s revelation, his father’s death - but there is one constant in his life, Guinevere. And he is nothing but thankful for her unfailing faith in him, even when he falters and he falters a lot. Yet, here they are, waving off the various kingdoms who have come to sign a peace treaty. After years of war and politics, there is finally hope for peace.  
  
Guinevere leans into him and he slips his arm around her waist.  
  
“That didn’t go too badly.”  
  
“Mmm,” he says, “especially if you ignore that fight during the first meeting. I never thought I would say this but thank goodness Merlin was there to paralyse them temporarily.”  
  
He feels more than hears her laugh. As the last horse disappears beyond Camelot’s gates, he turns to her. “So, now that peace is restored in Albion and I seem to be quite free, what would you like to do?”  
  
“Oh I don’t know. I heard Sir Leon say that the dungeons were in a poor state. Perhaps we should check it out.”  
  
Arthur frowns. It has been days of late night negotiations and entertainment. He barely saw his wife as she divided her time between helping with the preparations for the various feasts and meetings and entertaining the various noble ladies. And now she wants to check on the state of the dungeons? He sighs when she takes his hand and tugs him towards the direction of the dungeons. If there is one thing he has learnt about Guinevere over the past years, it is that when she wants something, she is more than willing to go to any length to get it.  
  
“Must we? Can’t we send Merlin?” He knows he is close to whining but he doesn’t care.  
  
“Merlin had a hectic week too and he is Court Sorcerer, not your manservant anymore.”  
  
Arthur pouts some more. “Well, I don’t like my new manservant.”  
  
They are at the stairs leading to the dungeons and Guinevere continues to lead him down them. “You have not liked any of your previous five manservants Arthur. Soon you will have gone through every possible manservant in Camelot.”  
  
Arthur rolls his eyes. Guinevere is always saying that about his penchant for changing manservants. It isn’t his fault that all the new manservants are so boring. He doesn’t say it because he knows Guinevere will just explain slowly again that manservants are not there to entertain him, even if Merlin used to. Frankly, he doesn’t think it’s too much to ask that his manservant is somewhat entertaining.  
  
He must have been thinking about manservants and their entertainment value far too deeply because the next thing he realises is that he is in one of the dungeon cells and his not-so-innocent wife has deftly locked one manacle around his right wrist.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Give me your other hand.” She is grinning, looking much too pleased with herself.  
  
“No. Unshackle me.”  
  
He has never been able to order Guinevere around and this instance was no different. “I promise you that you won’t regret it.”  
  
With great reluctance he stretches out his left arm and she quickly locks the other manacle around it so he is chained to the wall, unable to move very far. The grin on Guinevere’s face only gets bigger.  
  
“I have been thinking about this for days.” Her voice is low and breathy and he reacts as he always does.  
  
“You are very naughty.” It finally dawns upon him what his wife has planned. “What did you tell the guards?”  
  
“The truth - that I hadn’t had time with my husband for days and I want to have my wicked way with him.” As she speaks, she slowly unties the ribbons on her dress.  
  
“Guinevere,” he groans as he feels his pants tighten. He can neither touch himself or her and frustrations builds, especially when her dress drops to the ground and she’s standing in front of him in all her naked glory.  
  
Slowly, she approaches him and kneels in front of him. The anticipation is killing him and when she finally cups him, he lets out a sigh of relief.  
  
They spend hours in the dungeons and then, the rest of the night in their room.  
  
Five years later, Arthur would tell Llacheu that he was created the same day that peace began in Albion.


End file.
